It's A Wonderful Midlife Crisis (Good To The Last Death #1) - Robyn Peterman Page 0,19
of clothing. I say we get rid of the damned A and call them sweeters.”
Heather sat up and gaped at Missy. “How have I never thought of any of this? Your mind is exceptional.”
“Thank you, dude,” Missy said as she stood up and took a bow. “I try hard to please.”
I couldn’t help but notice how Heather looked at Missy. They’d had a semi-relationship for a while. Missy wasn’t sure she was comfortable being with a woman and had ended it. Heather would never admit it, but she was heartbroken. Thankfully, they’d stayed friends. I would have never been able to pick one over the other. Missy’s staunchly religious upbringing had done a number on her. As much as I thought they were perfect for each other, it wasn’t my say. Hell, my own private life was far messier than theirs.
“Time to call it a night,” Heather said, standing up and stretching. “I’m beat.”
And that’s when Sam and a few others arrived home… so to speak. I wouldn’t have noticed since I was halfway asleep in my chair, but my new addition noticed—and she had something to say about it.
“What the heck is Donna barking at?” Jennifer asked, getting ready to head out.
“Maybe it’s a ghost,” June said with a drunken little giggle.
My head jerked to her to see if she was serious. June didn’t see my violent reaction, but Heather did. She eyed me with concern. Shit. She was going to think I thought Steve was here as a ghost or something ridiculous like that.
“She’s just practicing her watchdog skills,” I said quickly, scooping Donna into my arms as she whined and barked at my spectral squatters. “And I think she knows it’s bedtime. You guys have to work tomorrow.”
“Damn it, what time is it?” Missy asked with a yawn.
“Midnight,” Heather said, still watching me. “I’m not buzzed. I’ll drop everyone off and you can get your cars tomorrow.”
It was midnight. I had told Sam to come back at midnight. I couldn’t even be mad at the dead posse.
“Good plan,” Jennifer said, carefully tucking the open bottle of chardonnay into her purse. “Can you pick us up for work in the morning?”
“Yep, my botoxicated buddy,” Heather said. “I’ll be the taxi tonight and then again in the morning. You going to be okay, Daisy?”
“Fine,” I said, busying myself cleaning up the mess. “I’m great. Just going to straighten up a bit and take Donna out for a pee-pee. I’m good.”
Heather nodded but gave me one last uneasy glance. Wait. Could she see the ghosts? Were the damn ghosts really here? My question was answered when Heather walked right through Sam to get her platter from the kitchen. No one would walk through a dead person on purpose. I know I certainly wouldn’t.
“Ohh,” June said, helping me gather the wine glasses and plates to take to the kitchen. “Wait until you see Gideon.”
“Who’s Gideon?” I asked, keeping a tight hold on Donna while I balanced a tray of half-eaten pie in one hand. It wouldn’t do to have Donna stand in front of Sam and bark at him. He might feel bad. Oh my God. Looney bin, here I come…
“The hottie lawyer Clarissa wants to bang,” Jennifer filled me in. “Man’s a damned work of art. Heather, even you have to admit Gideon is hot.”
“He’s hot,” Heather yelled from the kitchen.
“See,” Jennifer said, nudging me. “Even the lesbian says he’s hot.”
Not wanting to admit to my mortifying meeting with Gideon, I shrugged. “Well, Clarissa must be happy.”
“Funny thing,” June said, reentering the family room and wiping down the coffee table. “He seems to dislike her as much as we do.”
That had to be going over well. Not.
“Yep, she’s acting like a simpering fool around Mr. Fine-ass,” Jennifer said, folding the afghan and setting the pillows back on the couches. “It’s better than watching Golden Girls reruns to see her get crapped on.”
“It really is,” June said with a giggle. “She doesn’t know what to do. It’s too bad you won’t be there to see it.”
“You quit?” Missy asked, surprised, as she popped her head out of the kitchen while drying some of the platters that Heather must have washed.
“I wish,” I said. “But no. Clarissa gave me the week off to work at home.”
“Why in the heck would she do that?” Missy asked, perplexed.
Missy knew all about Clarissa and didn’t like her any more than we did. Multiple times, she’d closed her shop as Clarissa was walking in the door.